The Shack
by Stupidmuse hatesme
Summary: Harry visits his regrets, and a light flares in the darkness ONESHOT HP/SS  Non-compatible with book 6 and 7


"I never got to say goodbye."

The rain falls steadily. The clouds are so thick overhead that the world seems dim although it is only midday. It's gray and dreary, and Harry Potter can't help but think it suits his mood.

_"Death is merely the next great adventure."_

"I wonder if Dumbledore was right? Have you really embarked on another adventure? You don't seem like the adventuring type, really."

Tree boughs bow overhead, water running off of pine needles in rivelets. Harry ignores the mist around his head and the miniature streams that the branches seem to be sending down his shirt collar. He merely shrugs his shoulders to shift the damp material sticking to his shoulder blades and shifts his weight from leg to leg.

The ground squishes noisily under his feet.

"I bought the shack, you know."

Said shack, dilapidated and sorry looking, hunches in the rain in front of him, ancient trees barely sheltering it from the storm.

"Back in 6th year, I wanted..." His voice trails off, the thick woods swallowing it momentarily as the rain beats down. He swallows. "I wanted to share it with you. Share a place with you that wouldn't take you from the school. I always hoped-" Harry blinks, squinching his eyes shut, removing his glasses, and rubbing at them with the back of his hand. It's anyone's guess whether the moisture flooding them is from the rain, or from tears. He lowers his voice, murmuring throatily. "I always hoped that you could overcome what happened with Sirius and Remus. That we could make this a home."

In a sudden tangent, Harry looks away and clears his throat, shoving his fists into his pockets.

"I named my son after the both of you. Well, I adopted a boy. A baby." He smiles, blinking at the shack again through his slightly fogged glasses. "I know. It's bad enough I have James, yeah?" He laughs, but quietly. "James has red hair, and brown eyes." He whispers more. "But Albus Severus looks like the both of us. He's getting bigger everyday and I almost can't handle looking into his dark eyes without being flooded with memories of you."

His shirt is soaked clean through, and his jeans weight him down as they drag in the puddles his feets have made by indenting the loam.

"I want to thank you."

_"I can rest in peace now, knowing the great boy-who-lived is grateful to me."_

A smile momentarily lights up Harry's face. "Yes, I am grateful to you, Severus. And I hope you are in peace." He takes a step towards the shack, bringing him closer to the gate. But like a forcefield, it seems to hope him back. The fence is merely symbolic, rotted and half fallen-down, but it keeps him out nonetheless.

"I'll never stop loving you, Severus. I'll never stop thinking about living with you in this house." He extends a shaking hand to the gate, barely letting his fingertips graze the moldy green wood. "I feel like I'm raising memories, not children. And I'm sure this has my friends worried as well." He frowns, nails delicately scratching at soft splinters on the railing. "But I know you wouldn't want me to be alone, and I..." His voice trails off. "I can't..." Wetly, he swallows and looks away, his nails unconsciously digging into the damp and rotten wood. "I can't replace you." He forces out more words. "There's no one else. There never will be."

The rain overtakes the silence, beating down on his head in time with his drumming heart.

He sighs.

"I haven't..." He whispers. "I haven't been back here since you died. I couldn't go inside to see your body. I don't know if it's still laying there. I abandoned you, Severus. I'm so sorry."

Wood under his nails he yanks his hand back, shoving it into his pocket and hunching defensively.

"Goodbye, Severus. I'm going home. To James," he smiles wryly. "And to Al. I wish you only the best."

A small man trudging forlornly through the rain, he is quickly swallowed up by the droplets of water and the thick trees. But for a long time after, the shack seems to wait, peering into the gloom.

Not long after the clearing is empty, and undisturbed, there's a movement at a window.

In the gloomy oncoming night, the window softly glows to life, it's light only broken by a dim shadow.

_"You have always been a foolish little boy, Potter."_

FIN


End file.
